Bedtime Story with Doc Scratch
by Zamael
Summary: Omniscient he may be, but a great storyteller he is not: Doc Scratch's attempt to recite some Alternian history to the Handmaid could have gone better. Contains implications of sexual nature.


Calm down, young lady. This is your bedtime, and you are not supposed to exert yourself so much: kindly go to bed, relax, and let me read a bedtime story for you to help you sleep. Would you? Perhaps if I asked nicely and did not use that much force this time?

No?

Well, then I suppose I will have no choice but to remove your bedtime story privileges as well. Or at least to heavily limit them: I will not be reading you about the Empress and the Croakbeast after all, though I was going to. Perhaps tomorrow, if you behave.

Thank you. Since you have spoiled the chances of getting a story you would have preferred for today, I think I will instead read you some very much nonfictional Alternian history, as this will be an important subject if you are to lead it to that particular direction later slash earlier. Now, let's tug you under the sheets - keep your hands where I can see them, young lady - and let me sit down here, and I can begin. Ahem.

This story was painstakingly recovered from old clues and witness accounts, behind enemy lines and under the radar of the Highbloods, putting the authors in a grave danger for most of the time. For this is the story of a troll that was not supposed to exist at all: the story of the Signless.

So, once upon a time, there lived a troll that had no sign, and mutant-red blood. He wished to end the era of war and bloodshed among the trolls, and turn them into a race dedicated to love and peace. It was a difficult journey, but thankfully, he was not alone in this effort. Among many other faithful followers and cultists, there was his most loyal and dedicated Disciple, whose duty was to record every sermon he made.

One night Disciple approached the Signless's current hideout, wishing to help him out in another way. He was quite stressed-out of his constant walking, hiding, and visions, and so she marched inside the cave, grabbed the surprised signless, kissed him fiercely, and held up the colourful bucket in an arou- wait a second.

What is this? This debauchery is not the kind of a story fitting to be told to a young girl during bedtime. How does this follow... a heavy groan... stroking his... naked... with a melon? No, no, I will refuse to tell you about this. Let me skip for a few pages...

Ah, here we go. The Summoner was a very competent and mighty Cavalreaper, that could command the respect of any beast on land, sea, or air, and gained the eternal devotion of all lowbloods as he revealed a pair of mighty wings. He led them all rebellion against the Highblood rulers of the planet, a doomed but bold effort that would nonetheless have grand repercussions.

But before then, he was hopelessly in love with one of those very Highbloods. Marquise Spinneret Mindfang was a powerful troll pirate, and one night, she was snatched up in the air by a mysterious flying troll that stole her heart. Clothes rained back down on the deck of her ship as he- ...

No, this will simply not do. There are even illustrations here, tha-... do not look at them! Kindly stay in the bed, lady, and do not try to catch a peek of these. They are not for little girls, and I am sure you would be quite as confused as I am (and I am not confused very often) about how they can fill their buckets mid-air and in such outrageous positions, even without spilling a drop.

Hmph. And what about you people? I am sure you would not wish to hear this kind of raunchy tales any more than I would like to tell of them to my ward?

...What, really? You are kidding me.

No, I will absolutely refuse to... no. You will be hearing a fascinating and educating historical tale of some of the most important people ever lived in Alternia, and so will the young lady here. I will not indulge to your ridiculous desires any longer. Now, if I only...

Ah, this one should be interesting. It is about yourself, as you grow up. The Demoness was a powerful immortal monster, a living myth, that appeared many times throughout history to spread chaos and misery across the lands, promote the differences between low- and Highbloods, and generally doing precisely against what the Sufferer hoped the trolls were to do. This is a tale of how the Grand Highblood died, supposedly assassinated by the cowardly lowbloods, but indeed, as the author had managed to uncover, was in fact destroyed by the Demoness herself.

She approached his noble hive one night, unseen and unheard by him or any of his guards, servants, or the Lusus. She easily snuck inside, found him, and seduced him with a- Oh, for heaven's sake, young lady, how will you explain this? Look at what you will be wearing here! Or not wearing, rather. Have you no manners at all?

I cannot abide this from you. Not after all those sweeps I will spend grooming you to your position, raise you to become a tool for our mutual master. That you would simply slap it all against my face like this.

I have changed my mind. There will be no bedtime story tonight after all. And no Empress and the Croakbeast tomorrow for you, either, young lady. You have lost your bedtime story privileges entirely, and you will be grounded in your room until you learn to have behaved yourself in old stories and legends.

Oh, stop crying. You will bring this punishment up to yourself.

A/C: Unfortunately, this thing didn't let me to do white text. It takes something out of the story.


End file.
